


Polishing the Emeralds

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 00:01:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14147502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: A/N:Written for Slythindor100's prompt # 215: Sometimes I look at you and wonder how I got so damn lucky, for HD_fluff's prompt # 144: Emeralds, and for Enchanted_jae's monthly drabble challenge # 145: chores, clean, cook.Beta(s):Sevfan and Emynn.Disclaimer:The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.





	Polishing the Emeralds

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Written for Slythindor100's prompt # 215: Sometimes I look at you and wonder how I got so damn lucky, for HD_fluff's prompt # 144: Emeralds, and for Enchanted_jae's monthly drabble challenge # 145: chores, clean, cook.
> 
> **Beta(s):** Sevfan and Emynn.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

Polishing the Emeralds

~

“…and no magic may be used! These items are old and quite magically sensitive. The House gemstones especially must be cleaned by hand.” Headmistress McGonagall raised an eyebrow. “Is that clear, gentlemen?” 

Potter nodded. “Yes, Headmistress.” 

McGonagall looked over at Draco. “And you, Mr Malfoy? Was that clear to you?” 

“Crystal,” muttered Draco.

“Excellent.” McGonagall started towards the door. “When I return, I expect to see some progress. Good day, gentlemen.” 

Once the door had closed, Potter sighed, walked over to the cleaning supplies McGonagall had provided, and picked up a cloth. “Right, if we divide this up, we can finish this by lunch.” 

Draco snorted. “Fabulous. Then if you do it all yourself, you can be done by the end of the day, and I won’t have to mess up my manicure.”

“You get manicures?” Potter snorted.

“There’s nothing wrong with taking care of one’s appearance, Potter.” Draco pointedly eyed Potter’s hair. “You should try it sometime.” 

“Whatever, Malfoy.” Potter huffed. “And as for me doing this all by myself? Not a chance. You got us into this, you’re doing your share.” 

Draco sauntered over to a chair and sat down, crossing his legs. “And how are you going to make me?” he sneered. “You can’t use magic around all these _sensitive items_.” He smirked. 

Slowly, Potter shook his head. “Sometimes I look at you and wonder how the hell I’m always so _lucky_ as to keep getting into these situations with you.” 

“It’s sheer, dumb luck, I’m sure,” said Draco. “Although I agree. You are lucky to get to see more of me than usual.” 

Rolling his eyes, Potter turned away. “Whatever. Prat.” 

“Oh my, was that an attempt at sarcasm? Pathetic, Potter.” Draco took the opportunity to ogle Potter’s pert arse. “You should stick to your strengths.” 

“I’m surprised you admit I have any strengths.” 

“Of course you do. Even Gryffindors have their uses. I’m sure you’re marvellous at chores and cleaning and cooking—”

Potter’s back went rigid. “So basically we’re fit to be house-elves? Is that it?” 

Draco smirked, licking his lips. Potter’s posture made his shoulders look beautifully broad, while emphasizing his trim waist. And that superb arse. Salazar! “Well,” he said, distracted, “if the shoe fits—”

Potter spun around, a look of rage on his face. Draco’s heart sped up. “Look, you spoiled son of a—”

Draco pushed himself out of the chair to stand directly in front of Potter. “Yes?” he hissed. “You were about to say something about my parents?” 

Potter shook his head. “You’re not worth it. Do what you want. I’m doing my tasks and then getting out of here when the Headmistress gets back.” He began to turn away. 

Stung, Draco reached out, grabbing Potter’s shoulder. “Don’t you turn your back on me, you—”

Growling, Potter spun back around, knocking Draco’s hand off his shoulder. “I dare you to touch me again.” 

Smirking, fire pumping through his veins, Draco shoved Potter backwards and waited, heart in his throat. 

Potter’s face twisted, and he lunged at Draco, knocking him to the ground and landing on top of him. He hit Draco in the face a couple of times, but Draco managed to land a few blows of his own, and when he arched up to try to dislodge Potter, their groins brushed together and Draco had the answer to the question he’d been thinking about ever since the year had started. Potter was hard. Gloriously hard. 

“You’re gay!” 

Potter’s eyes narrowed, and, going still, he glared down at Draco. “Bisexual, actually.”

Draco hummed. “Close enough.” Eyes locked on Potter’s, he deliberately arched up again, sliding his own erection against Potter’s. They both hissed. 

Potter’s eyes widened. “You’re hard, too!” 

Draco smirked. “Ten points to Gryffindor,” he said, undulating his hips again. 

“You can’t give me points! We’re both—” Potter trailed off as Draco slid a thigh between his legs. 

“Both what?” murmured Draco, tightening his grip on Potter’s hips. “Horny? Salazar, I hope so.” 

Potter gasped. “Wait, is this why you’re been such a pillock since we returned?” He raised an eyebrow. “You know, Malfoy, there are easier ways of letting me know you fancy me.” 

Biting back a moan as Potter _ground down_ , Draco said, “Maybe, but they wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.” 

Shaking his head, Potter circled his hips, even as Draco did the same. They ground against each other, panting, Draco’s eyes closing as pleasure coiled inside him. 

Even though they were separated by several layers of cloth, Draco could feel the heat radiating off Potter’s cock on his as they slid together. His cock throbbed every time Potter’s slid past it. 

Draco sped up, and moments later, Potter cried out, his body shaking as dampness spread across the front of his trousers. Draco bit his lip and came seconds later, spilling inside his clothes. Breath shaky, Potter tucked his face in the curve of Draco’s neck and groaned, becoming dead weight. 

“Heavy,” wheezed Draco. 

Potter grumbled but rolled off him to collapse on his back beside him. “Well that was…unexpected,” he finally said. 

Draco groaned, sitting up. He reached for his wand to clean himself up, but Potter grabbed his hand. “You can’t. No magic in here, remember?” 

“Fuck,” muttered Draco, putting his wand away. “I’m sticky and I need to clean up.” 

Potter chuckled. “Tell you what. If you help me clean this place, I’ll help you get _thoroughly_ cleaned up later.” 

“Later?” Startled, Draco looked down at him. “As in…you want to do this again?” 

Potter shrugged, subjecting Draco to an intense once-over that was almost a physical caress. “Why not? That was fun. I’m interested to see how we do without clothes in the way.” 

Biting back a smile, Draco said, “You’re assuming I’m up for that.” 

Sitting up, Potter smiled. “Something tells me you are.” Getting up, he extended a hand to Draco. “Now come on. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can finish our chores and get out of here.” 

Draco huffed. “Fine,” he muttered, accepting Potter’s assistance to stand. “But I’m polishing those.” He nodded at the emerald stones. “If I’m going to do manual labour, I may as well look at something decorative.” 

“Rubies aren’t decorative?” 

“Emeralds are better.” 

Potter rolled his eyes. “All right, fine. I’ll do the rubies and the topazes.” 

“Leaving me with the sapphires as well?”

Potter gave him a flat look. “That’s half the stones, and it’s only fair since it was _you_ messing with the House stones, trying to put more in Slytherin’s cylinder, that got us into trouble in the first place.” 

Draco snorted. “You’re the one who tried to copy me and put more in Gryffindor’s column.” 

“Because you—” Exhaling, Potter shook his head. “How is it you always get under my skin?” 

“Do I?” Pleased, Draco hummed. “Be that as it may, right now I’m only interested in getting under your clothes.” 

“Well then, today’s your lucky day,” said Potter. “Although if this isn’t all done by the time Minerva gets back—”

“Oh please.” Draco snorted and began polishing the emeralds. “We’re professors on her staff. It’s not as if she can give us detention.” 

“No?” Potter smirked. “What would you call this, then?” 

Draco paused, then groaned. “Fuck me.” 

Chuckling, Potter turned to his own pile of stones. “Only if you’re lucky.” 

~


End file.
